Jolly Sailor Bold
by darkestswan
Summary: Emma visits Killian on the Jolly Roger, and though he's worked so hard to turn away from his own darkness, hers is so much more tempting. Oneshot, Angst.


_AUTHORS NOTE: Please, please please leave a comment if you like it, and check out my other things too! I am also starting a multi chapter fic so if you want to stay informed click that little follow button or follow me on tumblr, darkestswanblackestnight. Enjoy my shipmates! And sorry in advance!_

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He was docking the Jolly Roger when it began. It floated in the air, soft enough that only the most trained ears could hear it and run for their very lives. It was a ghost of a melody, an invitation to a cruel fate costumed as a lullaby. It was not his first experience with the song, not the first time it had stirred something deep inside him- and he reckoned it would not be his last. Mermaids had a certain lure to them, their voices strong and lilting at the same time, carrying in the wind and over blue seas and stormy skies. But this was different. This was urgent, and it didn't even come from a sea-maiden with the purpose of entrapping and ensnaring. It may have had the same effect on his heart and mind, but this- this was going to kill him in a different, far more agonizing way.

"Henry, get on land and go home," he demanded, turning around. The lad hadn't noticed the tune yet- he still had a chance. Henry, who had learned to trust the pirate, immediately followed orders, peering behind him before running away. He knew that look in Killian's eyes, knew what was about to happen, and though he wanted to stay he knew that if he did he wouldn't be able to eat or sleep for days. There was a darkness in the air, and it was coming fast.

 _"Upon one summer's morning, I carelessly did stray,_

 _Down by the Walls of Wapping, where I met a sailor gay…"_

Killian swallowed, closing his eyes to try and relax, but it was no use. He stood ridged and frightened. This was something worse than every mermaid, every creature, every nightshade-tipped arrow he'd ever had to fight against. He was a natural born survivor, but this? This he wasn't sure about. Something changed in the air and his breath hitched- there was no sound, no noise around him, but he knew she was there. He had always felt her presence when she came to him, both before… and after. Her voice carried to him, sweet and pure. A lie.

 _"His hair it does in ringlets hang, his eyes as black as sloes,_

 _May happiness attend him wherever he goes."_

He turned around and found her there, her green eyes imploring, searching, but hard and cold- certainly not loving. Not anymore. The blonde hair that once hung in curls that invited his fingers to run through its sunshine tangles was wrapped tightly against her skull, and for a moment he wondered if it was because of him, another tactic to push him away. Another tactic used to protect the darkness inside of her. She was covered by thick, black fabrics- eerily similar to that of the first dark one he'd met so long ago. Even now he didn't know where the lines blurred, if she was here for his love or here for his life.

 _"My father is a ruler—the truth I now will tell,_

 _And in great Enchanted Forest, in opulence doth dwell…"_

"Emma," Killian choked out, begging her to leave, pleading-but she didn't stop, and instead walked towards him, never breaking eye contact. She brushed her finger against his lips to quiet him.

"Let me finish," she whispered huskily, tilting her head to stare at him, study him as she continued to sing his death.

 _"A fig for his riches, his merchandize, and gold,_

 _True love is grafted in my heart; give me my sailor bold."_

They stood there for a moment, and his heart thudded in his chest. He knew she could feel it against him, her hand had slowly moved to his chest. It had once been a loving gesture, a tradition of their time together and every kiss, but now it was a weapon, a tool to remind him of his vulnerability. It could be taken from his body at any moment, but he'd never expected it from her.

Emma became distracted and moved her hands up to collar bones, then up to his neck. She wrapped her fingers around him and for a moment he thought he'd be strangled, but then they moved higher to cradle his face. His eyes closed- for a moment he could remember how it felt before the dagger, before she'd disappeared inside the spirit of darkness. Her hands were colder now, but if he imagined the warmth he'd have something to hold on to.

 _"While up aloft in storm, From me his absence mourn, And firmly pray, arrive the day_ _he's never more to roam…"_

She sang into his ear, hot breath on his face and he wanted to be a stronger man. Emma smiled, she knew the effect she had on him, always had- but the darkness knew as well. It was only a matter of time before she faded completely and the dark one inside would have what it was after- control of the light, control of true love. Emma's heart was pounding too, but not because of tender moments or eye contact of piercing blue- it was because of the command she carried over him. The power that came with love- the love that was now her primary weapon.

 _"My heart is pierced by Cupid…"_

They locked eyes, and suddenly her face became soft- a whisper of who she was. Her lips slightly curled up into an almost smile.

 _"I disdain all glittering gold…"_

She leaned in closer, and for a moment Killian wondered if she'd forgive him, the woman inside whom he followed to the end of time and would follow to the end of the world. Would she understand him following her into the darkness too?

 _"There is nothing can console me…"_

They were touching foreheads now just like old memories, so close to lips crashing against each other, a whisper of a kiss in the air- a challenge. Her hands were gripped against his jacket, and the ghost of a smile that had appeared on her face turned into a glowing ray of light, and for a moment he was tricked.

 _"But my jolly sailor….."_

Killian threw her off and walked away, trying to be the man- no, the hero that she deserved. If she wasn't the savior anymore he'd damn well be hers. It took far more strength than he cared to admit, especially when she breathed out the last word to his back- a breeze on the wind, a lusty promise that she knew he wouldn't be able to hold back for much longer, not like this.

 _"…bold…..…."_


End file.
